Just popping in to wish everyone a good week!
South Boulder Creek Trail. March 1, 2022.
It was sunny and warm here in this part of Colorado, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to get outside with a friend. We walked a somewhat muddy trail that passed through a small prairie dog town with some gregarious inhabitants.
*I truly thought today was Monday. Oops…
Marcel lives the life I crave: sitting in a southern-exposure window, basking in the sunshine as clouds float past in the blue-blue sky.
November 19, 2021
This photo’s from November, but today followed the same script: Marcel sprawled along the sill, eyes closed as he soaked up the solar rays. Hey, if it ain’t broke there’s no need to fix it.
Every morning, I open the bedroom window for about fifteen minutes to allow fresh air inside. It feels good to replace the stale with cold and invigorating air that wakes me up both mentally and physically. This morning’s ritual brought an unexpected bonus: a robin’s serenade.
February 2, 2022
While I never did locate where the robin perched outside, it was delightful to stand at the open window and drink in those lyrical notes. It’s only early February, but for a brief time, spring was in the air.
Our big snowstorm has just begun, tiny flakes drifting from the sky. In preparation, I cleaned the bird bath and replenished the feeders. Soon after, a flock of Bushtits arrived to eat at the peanut feeder, filling my heart with joy. I adore those tiny birds and curse the greedy chickadees that chase them from the food (sometimes while already holding a peanut in their beak). No pics today, but here’s a shot from last fall that I love.
October 24, 2021
That autumnal dining experience was at a much more comfortable temperature. Currently, it’s just above freezing and the low is forecast at 14 degrees. Stay warm, wee ones.
Photo by Skyler Ewing from Pexels
Today, I ran for the first time in six weeks since injuring my foot while trail-running with Wildebeest. The boot‘s been off a little over two weeks, but I stayed on the streets and ran at a leisurely pace. Although there was no pain, I forced myself to walk before hitting 2.5 miles. Just to be safe. And I iced my foot upon my return.
I’m so happy! Man, I’ve missed the runner’s high.
Rather than stalk my photogenic white cat with a camera for a #Caturday post, I’m opting for a different focus because it’s been far too long since I’ve indulged my goat-love.
Image by Reijo Telaranta from Pixabay
But why stop at one image?
Image by JackieLou DL from Pixabay
No one around here has a problem with goats, right?
Image by JackieLou DL from Pixabay
Right?
As I gazed out the window over the kitchen sink today, I saw sunflowers blooming in the backyard. When did that happen? Just the other day, they were tiny green plants and now they’re standing tall.
Sunflower and compost tumbler. July 3, 2021
The sun was shining bright so I waited until there was cloud cover before going out with my camera. Then I couldn’t resist photographing this lone flower next to what could be mistaken for a patch of blue sky.
I’m so happy they’ve returned in all their sunshine-kissed glory.
I recently accepted a work-for-hire assignment with a low word count and remembered all over again how those word counts can be a blessing and a curse. Yesterday, it felt like the latter as I struggled to figure out how to say what needed to be said without going over the chapter word limit. Today I didn’t even have the enthusiasm to open the project and instead opted to do some much needed spring cleaning. (Who am I?!) When I finished mopping, I took a shower.
Image by Fifaliana Joy from Pixabay
Epiphany!
As is often the case with knotty writing issues, something about standing under the water allowed me to see the path forward. I now know exactly how to handle that info in a way that does not violate the word count limit. Tomorrow I shall resume work.
I spent most of the day reading in bed as my response to the second vaccine dose. The electrolytes and ibuprofen worked wonders and I rallied late afternoon to walk in the sunshine with Zippy and Emma. In shady parts of the neighborhood, there were still piles of snow left from the plows and our exuberant doggo took every opportunity to “submarine” in those piles, roll around on her back, or perform a combination of both. It never failed to bring a smile and I regret not getting pics.
April 16, 2021
This shot from earlier in the week will have to suffice. Take this backyard energy and crank it up about five notches to get an idea of Emma’s happiness level today.
View from my front step. November 10, 2020.
. . . relatively clean air.
This is Denver as seen from my front step. For much of the past several months, the buildings were obscured by wildfire smoke and ash. Downtown was a hazy mirage.
Yesterday, it snowed. Today? I ran and breathed freely. Deeply. Happily.
I’m very grateful for today’s clean air! The snow ( temporarily, at least) cleared the smoke and ash from the wildfires. There’s also sunshine. Hooray! And it was a balmy 40 degrees as Zippy, Emma, and I walked around the neighborhood, skirting patches of ice. It’s the first walk in weeks and weeks (months?) in which I didn’t have to wear a mask to protect my lungs from smoke. I felt so free.
House finch. October 24, 2019.
My son, Zebu, doesn’t get it, but I absolutely love the day following a big snowstorm. Clean, crisp air plus blue skies equals happiness.
This photo was taken the day after one of our snowstorms last October, but it’s a perfect representation of this day. And maybe this same House Finch is out in the plum bushes as I write these words.
Emma. September 14, 2020
Here’s my happy doggo to perk up anyone in need of perking (not to be confused with twerking, although, if twerking makes you feel better, by all means do that!) The photographic quality is low and Emma’s smile is slightly blurred, but the emotions shine through.
As Charles M. Schulz famously wrote, happiness is a warm puppy.
For years, a cherry tree flourished in a four feet by four feet space on the patio. It was lovely and we made pie with its fruit. The birds, bees, and we loved it. Then the tree became sick and we had to cut it down. Last summer, one volunteer sunflower grew in that space.
Sunflowers on patio. July 12, 2020.
This year, it’s a literal sunflower forest. I just took my camera out there to finally document the tangle of stalks and blooms. And I smiled the entire time. Here’s a tiny sampling of the happy flowers thriving there.
My confession? Right now I hardly miss our dear old cherry tree.
Dayliles make me happy. They’re cheery and vibrant. They intrigue from every angle.
Daylilies in my front yard. July 3, 2020.
Also? They’re a very low maintenance perennial. What’s not to love?
I just hit SEND on the 44,000-word middle-grade manuscript I’ve been revising. I sent it to two readers who haven’t seen it before which means fresh eyes/fresh insights. Woot! Hitting SEND also means this project is no longer my concern (temporarily, but still!) and that I’m free to be and do as I please for the next week or so.
Right now, I’m feeling like this doggo that walked past my house this morning.
Unknown happy dog. June 28, 2020.
Woof!
Technique imperfect
enthusiasm flawless
let’s hoop it up, yo.
Ten days ago I took a bad fall while running on the trails. I’m healing and this morning decided it was time to get out there again. I’ll admit to being nervous, but once I was out there amidst the wildflowers, butterflies, grasshoppers, meadowlarks, magpies, and robins, I was so happy.
A taste of what I saw this morning. Image from AllTrails site.
However, happy doesn’t equal not-nervous. As I got closer to where I’d fallen, images of that fall popped in my head and I tightened up. So I chanted, “Feet on the ground. Feet on the ground. You are connected to this trail. Feet on the ground. This is your happy place. Feet on the ground.” My body relaxed.
I intended to run past the scene of the fall, but decided it was important to stop and examine the site. I immediately spotted the rock I believe was the culprit. It was dark and partially submerged, hard to see. Damned rock. But now I know it’s there and will forevermore lift my feet high as I run past it. I also know there will be many more joyous runs on that trail because today I got back on the horse that threw me. Yeehaw!
I just hit SEND on my work-for-hire project! Not only that, but I turned it in ahead of schedule. The manuscript and bibliography weren’t due until tomorrow, people. Am I awesome or what?!
And in case you’re wondering about the significance of this happy little robot, the book is about Artificial Intelligence. Not exactly in my wheelhouse.*
Okay, I’m off to celebrate with some Robot Dance moves . . .
*understatement of the year
Zippy and I ran around the neighborhood with Emma this morning. Lots of sunshine. The rest of the day was filled with NBA basketball viewing plus a last-minute decision to bake cookies. We had (just barely) the ingredients for oatmeal raisin cookies and I made those while the games played in the background. Wildebeest and Emma napped together partway through the afternoon. Zebu went downstairs to shower in preparation for a family photo, but that was a couple hours ago and we haven’t seen him since. My best guess is he’s now napping, too.
Pretty much an ideal day.
I just hit SEND on my manuscript and am doing the Ed Grimley happy dance!
Finishing that round of revisions is totally decent, I must say!
Not sure when the lady beetle hopped on board, but I was happy to have its company on this gorgeous spring afternoon. It’s been a very difficult week and I welcome any overture of friendship.
It’s the little things that make happy moments, not the grand events.
Joy comes in sips, not gulps.
~ Sharon Draper
This morning I pulled some manuscript/project boxes out of the closet to see if there’s anything in there worth salvaging for my next writing endeavor. (My little writer brain has to have something to noodle on, so while I await my critique group’s feedback on my work-in-progress, I’ve started thinking about what comes next). Well, those boxes proved irresistible to the cats.
Marcel claiming his literary territory
Later this afternoon, Emma and I went out on the trails. Although it was warm enough for me to wear shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, there were still a few patches of snow along the way. We stopped running so that Emma could do her thing.
I laughed as she scooped snow with her snout and dug holes with her paws and slid down the slope on her tummy.
Emma + snow = happiness
We find delight in the beauty and happiness of children
that makes the heart too big for the body.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
. . . a good sneeze.
. . . Coreopsis blooming.
. . . hoop dancing to Aretha Franklin’s “Rock Steady.”
. . . watching my sons find their way.
. . . the versatility of the word “fuck.”
. . . checking an item off a to-do list.
. . . singing along with the radio.
. . . cherries in season.
. . . a Red-tailed Hawk floating on an air current.
. . . realizing a revised chapter is much better than before.
. . . yelling “Steve Holt!”
. . . wrestling with a dog.
. . . peeing after holding it too long.
. . . not caring what anyone else thinks.
. . . popcorn and beer.
. . . a no-look basketball pass.
. . . napping on a rainy afternoon.
. . . napping on a snowy afternoon.
. . . reading on a rainy or snowy afternoon.
. . . never feeling guilty about napping or reading.
. . . a cat on the lap.
. . . a Western Meadowlark’s song.
. . . running hard and feeling strong.
. . . clean sheets.
. . . never, ever having to change another poopy diaper.
. . . hearing a tantrum in a restaurant and knowing it ain’t my responsibility.
. . . laughing ’til you cry.
. . . painted toenails.
. . . coffee in bed.
. . . changing out of boots after a long hike.
One little piece of happiness for every day in June.
So here’s something from 2014 that I feel good about: I finally went ahead and made some changes to our bathroom. For years I’ve wanted to get rid of the white plastic tub surround that was installed poorly and, therefore, buckled and pulled away from the wall along the top of the tub. It was impossible to keep clean and I couldn’t take baths because it’s difficult to relax when everything at eye level = YUCK. (When showering, I was actually grateful for my poor vision because then I could kinda, sorta pretend the bathroom looked all right.)
I knew I wanted something new but couldn’t decide what that something new would be, and decisions are not my friends. At least, decisions didn’t used to be my friends. We’re still not BFFs, but we’re doing better. Once I put in the call to the general contractor a friend had recommended waaay back in May, I made decisions Bing-Bang-Boom. Tile? Got it. Accent tile? Found it. New vanity top and sink? Check. Paint? Check again. Window treatment? Okay, that took a couple tries but not for lack of decision-making, but because of dimensions. Shower curtain? Done.
My bathroom went from feeling cold and dreary to being one of my favorite places in the house. In fact, I’m sitting on the edge of the tub right now.
Tracy Abell 